Zak just walked, his silence a familiar companion. As he turned the familiar corners on his way home, the quiet hum of the waking city faded, replaced by the profound, almost deafening stillness he carried within himself.
It was a silence he knew intimately, a comfort in its unchanging nature. He moved through the dim streetlights, each step a testament to his continued, unburdened existence, a life free from the clamor of ambition or the weight of expectation.
As Zak neared his apartment building, a flicker of movement high above caught his eye. It wasn't the usual darting of bats or the distant glint of an airplane. This was a frantic, almost acrobatic chase unfolding across the rooftops of the buildings opposite his own.
Silhouetted against the dim glow of the city, two figures moved with impossible speed. One, lean and agile, vaulted over ventilation shafts and leapt across narrow gaps between structures, its movements fluid and desperate.
The other, larger and more imposing, pursued with relentless power, its heavy strides shaking loose tiny fragments of debris from the crumbling edges of the old roofs. There was no sound reaching Zak's ears from their struggle, only the silent, harrowing ballet of pursuit and evasion playing out against the night sky.
The air, already still, seemed to thicken around the unseen battle, a tension that even Zak's detachment couldn't entirely ignore.
Zak, however, remained unfazed. His gaze lingered for a moment, observing the desperate leaps and powerful strides, a flicker of distant curiosity in his dark eyes. But then, as if it were nothing more than a passing cloud, his attention drifted.
He continued his walk, his pace unwavering, his shoulders slightly hunched against the cool night air. The rooftop chase became another fleeting detail in the periphery of his unchanging world, a brief anomaly quickly absorbed back into the familiar quiet of his journey home.
He reached the next street corner, a familiar turn that would lead him directly to his building. Just as he stepped into the crosswalk, a figure shot past him with impossible speed, a woman's body tumbling backward through the air.
She moved too fast to register details, a blur of dark clothing and flailing limbs, before she slammed into the brick wall of a storefront across the street. The impact was sickeningly loud, a dull thud followed by the splintering of old brick, and then silence. Her form slumped against the damaged wall, motionless.
For a moment, Zak's usual indifference wavered. This wasn't a distant spectacle on a rooftop; this was a body, his street, a harsh reality thrust directly into his path. His footsteps, for the first time since leaving the diner, slowed.
He hesitated, his eyes fixed on the motionless figure. The quiet of the street felt unnervingly heavy now, disturbed only by the distant hum of the city.
He approached, his steps cautious, devoid of any rush, as if examining a curious, broken object.
As he reached her, ready to observe the damage, the woman stirred. A low groan escaped her lips, and with a visible effort, she pushed herself up from the crumbled brick.
Her dark clothing was torn, a faint wisp of smoke curling from one sleeve, and she clutched her side, but her eyes, sharp and wary, were already scanning the street, looking not at Zak, but beyond him.
"Are you alright?" Zak asked, his voice flat, devoid of the concern it might imply, sounding more like a detached query.
The woman finally turned her gaze to him, her sharp eyes widening slightly in surprise. She took in his presence, standing calmly amidst the shattered brick and the lingering scent of burnt ozone.
A faint frown creased her brow.
"What in the hell is a civilian doing out here at this hour?" she muttered, more to herself than to him, her voice laced with an edge of irritation.
Her eyes swept over the quiet street, then back to Zak, a flicker of genuine curiosity warring with her obvious urgency.
Before Zak could respond, a new figure dropped from the shadows of an alleyway just behind the damaged wall. It was the other person from the rooftop, the larger, imposing one, but now its movements were swift and precise, no longer pursuing, but immediately moving to the woman's side.
"Are you alright, Lyra?" the figure asked, its voice deep and concerned, its hand immediately reaching out to steady her. It was a man, his face grim, scanning her for injuries.
Lyra, still clutching her side, didn't spare Zak another glance. Her gaze, sharp and intense, immediately found her companion.
"He went that way," she rasped, pointing a shaky finger down the street, in the direction Zak had just come from.
"Just past the old bakery. Damn it, Kael, I didn't expect him to have that kind of... kick. He hit me with something I couldn't even see coming." She winced, a brief spasm of pain crossing her features.
"He's got more power than we anticipated, a lot more." She then seemed to remember Zak, standing quietly beside them.
Her eyes, still narrowed with pain and frustration, flicked back to him, then to Kael.
"Kael," she ground out, her voice sharp with accusation.
"You said there wouldn't be any civilians out here tonight!" Before Kael could offer an explanation,
Zak's flat voice cut through the tension.
"I just got off my shift," he stated, his eyes unblinking,
"My apartment's just around the corner." He looked back at Lyra, his gaze as level as before.
"Are you alright?" he asked again, his tone unchanged.
Lyra let out a frustrated sigh, pushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Kael, however, stepped slightly forward, his imposing frame seeming to block any further view of the injured woman from Zak.
His gaze was stern, an unspoken warning in his eyes.
"Yes, she'll be fine," Kael said, his voice clipped and firm.
"You should head home, kid. Nothing to worry about here." His eyes darted to Lyra, then back to Zak, a silent message passing between them. Lyra nodded, a grim understanding dawning on her face.
"Go on now," Lyra added, her voice still strained but holding an authoritative edge.
"This isn't your concern. Just... be careful on your way back. Get inside and stay there."
Zak nodded, a single, brief dip of his head.
"That was unexpected," he murmured, his gaze drifting from the pair to the damaged wall, then back to the quiet street.
He turned and continued his walk, his steps resuming their unhurried rhythm. By the time he reached the familiar door of his apartment building, the crumpled brick and the strained faces of Lyra and Kael had already faded from his mind, replaced by the singular, comforting thought of warmth.
He unlocked his door, stepped inside, and his focus narrowed to the immediate, uncomplicated task: dinner. Instant noodles.
He pulled a pack of instant noodles from the cupboard, the familiar crinkle of the plastic a comforting sound. The small kettle on his counter hummed to life, and soon, a stream of hot water poured into the styrofoam cup, dissolving the dried block into fragrant strands.
While it cooked, he shed his diner uniform, replacing it with worn, comfortable clothes. He sat at his small, wobbly table, steam rising gently from his meal. The simple warmth of the broth, the familiar chew of the noodles, filled the quiet space.
The events of the night, the chasing figures, the injured woman, felt distant, already dissolving into the periphery of his memory. Another day concluded, just as uneventfully as the rest.